


Fragility

by GrumpyPeach (orphan_account)



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Broken, Fanfiction, Fragility, Gen, Hurt, Jack Frost - Freeform, Rise of the Guardians - Freeform, Sad, abused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/GrumpyPeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>(For the rotg_kink meme. Super short prose, but it's my first fill. Hope it's okay, anon.)</p><p>PROMPT: "I just want a broken, pitiful Jack. I don't care how or why. Give me something sad, break my heart people!</p><p>No rape or anything like that, please. Pairings are fine, though I'd prefer gen. If you really want to add some h/c or something though, Pitch/Jack is my OTP. :)"</p>
    </blockquote>





	Fragility

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon/gifts).



> (For the rotg_kink meme. Super short prose, but it's my first fill. Hope it's okay, anon.)
> 
> PROMPT: "I just want a broken, pitiful Jack. I don't care how or why. Give me something sad, break my heart people!
> 
> No rape or anything like that, please. Pairings are fine, though I'd prefer gen. If you really want to add some h/c or something though, Pitch/Jack is my OTP. :)"

Broken spirits are like refracted light; shards of many colors that run the spectrum of fragility. Though immortal, they still feel human emotions: fear, anger, love, grief, frustration, pride, regret, despair, and hope, disappointment... hurt.

More colors than what the human eye can possibly see.

Though his own faults shade him from the fact that they are, in fact, spirits in every sense of the word, Jack Frost will be the first to agree that he is very much broken. It's the fact that he still keeps on trying that keeps him sane.

There was a time when he was younger, a brand-new spirit. Confused, fun-loving and ultimately, naïve; a time when he would have denied and truly have believed with every fiber in his body, that there was nothing wrong with him. Bruised, bent out of shape, a little lonely, but never broken.

Broken was for mortals who could afford to whine and be scared, truly frightened; certainly not one, Jack Frost. Certainly it wasn’t him that was feeling this aching regret, this guilt, shame... this hurt.

He liked to pretend that he felt nothing despite that constant twinge in his chest, that clenching, suffocating feeling.

Broken spirits are like refracted light, shards of many colors that run the spectrum of human fragility; dark light and all-consuming; a spectrum of all the colors that no one likes to use in pretty paintings. The muddy, tinted aqua and ghostly pale grays, the dark grays and painful blues… the colors of a bruised spirit.

Jack had waited and hoped and been a fool who had trusted others to do the right thing. He had hoped that, despite all evidence to the contrary, that someone would guide him when he was lost and so desperately lonely. He had fooled himself into believing that good deeds are rewarded with peace; he had trusted that friendship and love went both ways, even when it was bestowed to the most unlikely beings.

Good intentions were never enough though. Love was as solid as smoke and Jack Frost would not be making the same mistakes again.


End file.
